


Both Worn Out From All The Years

by where_havealltheflowers_gone



Series: Song Inspired Fiction [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Crying, Established Relationship, Everything Hurts, Flashbacks, Implied Cheating, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Sad Derek, Sad Stiles, Songfic, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-11
Updated: 2013-06-11
Packaged: 2017-12-14 15:04:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/where_havealltheflowers_gone/pseuds/where_havealltheflowers_gone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek turned towards where Stiles had glanced. And that's when he saw it. <br/>     Stiles had packed his bags. <br/>     Stiles was sitting nervously at the table, when Stiles had always been so comfortable with Derek.<br/>     Stiles, his mate, was leaving him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Both Worn Out From All The Years

**Author's Note:**

> The song is What I Know by Parachute.
> 
> I'm not gonna apologize....
> 
> I AM SO SORRY. 
> 
> It's written like the first little section is now and the last two sections are Derek remembering what just happened.

(I take the car and drive at night.  
The white stripes blur and ease my mind,  
When all that's left is a single line instead of this confusion.  
And I'm not certain of the way it was,  
And I'm not sure what I could've done.  
And I wonder if it'd be enough  
To stop her from leaving.)

 

Derek isn't going to cry. He's an alpha, damn it, and he's not going to cry. He also isn't going to think about the conversation he had just had with Stiles or what won't be waiting for him when he finally does go home.   
The speed accelerates to a dangerous speed, but he doesn't slow down. He passes the "you are now leaving Beacon Hills" sign.   
"Good," he mutters to the sign. The more space he can put between himself and the scene that just unfolded in his kitchen, the better.   
He only gets about a mile out before his eyes glaze over and he's thinking about it. A tear slips down his cheek.   
"Fuck," he whispers. He swipes at his face roughly.  
He's an alpha; he's not going to cry. 

 

(She's sitting on the kitchen chair,  
The suitcase waiting by the stairs.  
They're both worn out from all the years,  
They're ready to let go.)

 

"Hey," Derek called as he shook his leather jacket off his shoulders, "Stiles?"  
"In here," came the reply from the kitchen.  
"Sorry I'm late," Derek said as he moved towards the voice, flipping through the envelopes he just gotten out of the mail. "Are you hungry? I can make something."  
"Derek," Stiles said. And something in his tone made Derek look up. Stiles was sitting stiffly at the kitchen table, hands clasped in his lap. His eyes flickered from Derek's face to the doorway and back again, his mouth was open hesitantly.   
Derek turned towards where Stiles had glanced. And that's when he saw it.   
Stiles had packed his bags.   
Stiles was sitting nervously at the table, when Stiles had always been so comfortable with Derek.  
Stiles, his mate, was leaving him.   
Derek gulped, forced his thoughts to stop, and looked back at the younger man. "What's going on?" he asked, his voice hoarse from the strain of keeping his emotions in.  
Stiles sighed and looked down at his hands. "We should talk."

 

(I'm on my knees.   
Yes, and I realize the only thing I know is:  
She said, "I'm in love with someone else."  
She said, "I fell in love with someone else,  
I'm in love with someone."  
And that's all that I know for sure.)

 

"What's there to talk about?" Derek asked softly. "You're leaving." He looked at Stiles, silently begging for this whole thing to be a huge misunderstanding. All he needed was one look and he knew. Stiles was really going.   
"I wanted to explain," Stiles said after a moment of painful silence.  
Derek shook his head. He didn't want some bullshit, rehearsed explanation. He didn't want to hear, "it's not you, it's me" or "we can still be friends." He didn't need a lie, not from the only person he'd let himself trust in years, not from Stiles. It would only make things worse.   
Stiles rose to his feet, extended a quivering hand. "Please," he whispered in a voice heavy with emotion, "Just let me."  
Derek picked a spot on the floor and stared. "Do you even know..." he stopped when his voice cracked and cleared his throat. "Do you have any idea what I wanted for us?" He slid his eyes up to Stiles' face and dug in his pocket. Stiles swallowed hard when he saw it and his eyes grew wide. Derek did the only thing he could think of: he dropped to his knees. "Please," he whispered, all his dignity and pride out the window, "Stay. I can be...better. Whatever's wrong, I can fix it. I can..." he broke off, a sob threatening to escape his throat. He reached for Stiles' hand, tried to slide the ring on his finger.   
Stiles jerked back. "Derek," he started.   
"No!" Derek barked, "Whatever you're going to say, no." He rested his hands on his thighs, looking up at the man he'd loved for the last five years, the one who he'd turned to before he'd even fallen for him, the only person who had always been there for him. How could he lose Stiles? How could something be so wrong that Stiles felt his only option was getting out? How had Derek not seen this coming? "Please," he whimpered.  
"Get up," Stiles said and it sounded like a plea, like he couldn't bear for Derek to do this.  
"Will you stay?" Derek asked.  
"Just get up, please."  
Derek shook his head, resolute. "Not until you say you'll stay." Stiles sighed, exasperated. "Stiles. I promise, whatever it is. We can work through it. I love you, I love you so mu-"  
"There's someone else!" Stiles yelled, and then brought a hand to his mouth, as if he hadn't meant to cut Derek off with the worst possible thing he could have said. "Shit, Derek," he mumbled, "I just... You wouldn't listen. I.."  
Derek got to feet shakily. He refused to meet Stiles' gaze. "Someone else?" he questioned, voice rough, even though he already knew what Stiles meant.   
"I didn't mean for it to happen. We met at work. It... it just happened."   
Derek looked up then. "You love him?"  
Something flashed in Stiles' eyes, and Derek didn't need an answer. "I'm sorry," Stiles whispered pathetically.   
Derek nodded. That was all that he needed to know. He turned and walked back through the hallway, on his way to the door. Grabbing his jacket and keys, he ignored the way Stiles called his name, thick with tears he had finally let fall and pleas of forgiveness, and slammed the door as he went.   
Once outside, he realized he still had the engagement ring in his hand. He threw it unceremoniously into the woods. He'd never have any use for it now.


End file.
